


preying on you tonight (you think that you can hide)

by x (ordinary)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Priests, F/M, Seduction, Self-Flagellation, geddit, hahaha take me to church, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:17:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordinary/pseuds/x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Worship at the shrine of her lies, Father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	preying on you tonight (you think that you can hide)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [barkghest (pokrzyk)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=barkghest+%28pokrzyk%29).



**i.**

The starch of his collar, the drone of his sermon, the stained glass of his chapel-- none of it is enough to distract him from sin. Cullen grasps the black of his cassock as she slides into the confessional.

It’s her, he knows. She smells of lilac laced with cinnamon, and through the screen he can see cherry red lips part and sigh, softly:

“Oh, Father. Bless me, for I have sinned.”

Father Rutherford grits his teeth, staving off a pulse of arousal. 

Thus begins their cycle anew.

 

**ii.**

She alarms him. She  _concerns_  him, with how she speaks. None of the other priests have ever even  _seen_  her. And all he knows is that she’s a slip of a thing, dwarfed by the confession box, with that her hair and lips both are as red as wine. 

He should report her to the authorities, but the tremble of fear in her voice keeps Cullen from it. 

_She’s just a girl._

 

**iii.**

She smiles into her hands as she weeps, and accepts her. All she’s ever needed is the knowledge that a man’s fallen prey to her trap.

 

**iv.**

He holds the belt folded twice in his right hand, staring up at the cross in his room. Cullen does not beg for forgiveness, or for redemption, Instead, with his eyes fixed squarely on the face of his lord and saviour Jesus Christ, he uses the belt to strike his back.

It stings, of course. The thick, brown leather strap cut a rectangle into his pale skin. Not enough to bleed-- but enough for a welt. The first of many: Father Rutherford counted out the strokes with an even tone, as if he were reciting his rosaries.

Heavy  _thwack, thwack, thwack_ s echo in his spartan room, proof of his punishment, and whether it’s to God or to himself, Cullen just doesn’t know. His back becomes a painted crisscross of marks, and each new one elicits a mournful gasp from his scarred lips. 

The belt is too close to nails along his back, the heat her bosom against his back.

Twenty. 

Twenty would suffice, for thinking of a girl like that. Young enough to still be in pleated skirts, cruel enough to tempt the men of her life into terrible ( _wonderful, envious_ ) deeds.

 

**v.**

It should be no great surprise that he finds her there, in his confessional, in the darkest hours of the night. Head bowed, cheeks flush-- and on the wrong side of the screen. 

God help him, he closes the door behind him.

“Oh, Father,” she says again, lascivious and terrible, pulling up the front of her skirt. 

God help him, she has nothing beneath. Just a thatch of red, inviting your lips to sample the most forbidden of fruits. A thousand reasons sprung forth, and every one of them Cullen discarded in favor of dropping to his knees.

He is  _but a man_ , even if he is a man of God.

“Bless me, for I am about to sin.”

God help him. He did.

**Author's Note:**

> it's all on u bark
> 
> note: moving to my main ao3


End file.
